Have you ever told a fish...

That you went poo in the toilet? Meet Sammy, the latest addition to our menagerie. Long story short, little boy B went number 2 x 5 days in a row and voila!! We have a Sammy. Some boys are more partial to trains (à la Tristan), but this little one was so determined to not be bribed, so it took a little creative thinking. “M&M candies?” Like brother (who has been number 2ing for months) “umm…no thank you”. What about a book about the moon (note: parent playing upon child's not so tiny obsession with the moon) “The real moon?” Yes dear. “Ummm, not yet”. And on this went.

Finally one day (again I’ll spare too many details) but think little boy sitting on toilet with TV table in front doing stickers for 20 minutes until…the very first inaugural poop in toilet. It was so friggin cute – his eyes slowly got bigger and bigger and bigger then he looked at me (half scared) “Mommy, what’s happening?” and I very calmly answered, ‘Well, I think there may be a poo in the toilet’. And there was. After a few minutes of him being in a mild state of shock, the excitement settled in we phoned almost everyone we knew to tell them the big news.

The next step was to keep my newfound fortune (I truly felt like I’d won a lottery). The goal = a fish, just like their cuzzins. Since we were headed there for a weekend visit the very next day, I hoped the excitement of drooling over their cuzzins’ fish tank for 3 days would add to the attraction of using a special little fishy as a reward. When I told him this, he named the thing immediately. “OK Mommy, I think our fish will have a name Sammy”.

As you can see, I was not adverse to anything that would work, including the OMG how could you?? Bribery. Heck, it worked for more than half of the neighbourhood kids and they are all thriving and not seemingly too scarred for life, so who cares. It isn’t as though we bribe him regularly to eat three more bites of a meal so he can have dessert, oh wait, yup, we do that too. I hope Ann doesn’t scorn me forever, I am doing the best I can. Note to self – go buy that Parenting book this week.

Back to Sammy, almost every time B does his business in the toilet, of which every time I continually remind him just how proud we are of him, he runs to tell Sammy. It is just as cute as it is hilarious as it is ridiculous, again, whatever works.
And every time someone comes over who has yet to meet Sammy, B introduces them to Sammy and tells them he is here cause “I go pee and poo in da toilet”. Why does this not embarrass me? It doesn’t. I love it. I also grew very partial to Sammy from day 1. He sits on our kitchen counter and swims around in his little neon green paradise. I convince myself that this is not keeping animals in captivity, but providing said betta fish with a lovely life saving him from the perils of the stagnant waters of rice paddies, shallow ponds or slow moving rivers (as was quoted in little handout nice pet store man gave us.) I make the toast, do the dishes, he swims around, practically soothes me at times and yes, I talk to him, but I have yet to tell him, well, you know.